Goldsboro native Rick Best runs with the bulls in Spain
By Joey Pitchford
Published in News on August 18, 2016 1:46 PM
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News-Argus/SETH COMBS
Rick Best, owner of the Retro Lube on Ninth Street, displays an image on his cellphone with a grin on his face Monday.
While preparing to run with the bulls in Pamplona, Spain, July 12, Rick Best was given a few pieces of advice.
Don't look over your shoulder.
Keep your eyes forward.
If you fall, don't try to get up.
All good ideas, if a bit grim. But not enough so to dissuade Best.
This had been a long time coming.
A Goldsboro native who owns the Retro Lube auto shop at 1000 Ninth St., Best splits his time between Goldsboro and Brazil, his wife's home country.
At 60 years old, he has spent the last few years checking items off his bucket list, which includes going to the Masters golf tournament and the Australian Open tennis tournament, and watching the Braves play in the world series.
Best doesn't describe himself as an adrenaline junkie. Given that, it might seem unusual to add a potentially life-threatening foot race to a bucket list comprised mostly of sporting events. Best's inspiration came from the world of literature.
"My first exposure to it was in a backgrounds to (literature) class in college," he said. "I've always been a Hemingway fan, and we were reading 'The Sun Also Rises,' and there's some chapters in the book about him going to Pamplona and watching the running of the bulls."
The running of the bulls is a Spanish custom which dates back to the 14th century. According to Spanish tradition, while farmers moved their cattle through the streets to market, young men seeking thrills would incite the animals to move faster and then run in front of them. As the contest grew more frequent, it also grew in popularity, and after Hemingway introduced it worldwide in "The Sun Also Rises" and "Death in the Afternoon" it became cemented as a tradition.
Best's participation in the run came partially out of chance. He and his wife had already planned a trip to Europe to watch the Wimbledon tennis tournament and the British Open golf tournament. After the British Open was moved forward, Best realized his trip would coincide with the running of the bulls, and decided to take part.
It was not a decision that Best took lightly. He took to the gym ahead of the race, practicing sprinting as hard as he could for two minute intervals to prepare for the quick and chaotic nature of the race.
"A lot of people don't realize how fast it is," he said. "It's over in about three minutes."
At 6 a.m., two hours before those three minutes, Best stood on the course he would run.
Emergency medical personnel were camped out every 50 meters, which did nothing to ease the swell of nervousness that hit Best out of nowhere.
"At about 10 minutes to 8, I experienced something I had never experienced," he said. "I was so nervous I didn't have any spit, my mouth was so dry. I couldn't hardly swallow, I was so nervous."
Best had decided to start his run outside the town hall building, at the apex of a hill which marked the first part of the race. That way, he would be able to see the crowd coming, and know how to best approach it.
It wasn't long before the first rocket, which signaled that the bulls had been released, was fired. It was followed by a second, which meant all the bulls had left the pens and were now in the street.
From his position, Best could see the crowd of around 500 people beginning to move down below him.
He could also hear the cowbells in the distance.
Hemingway described the running of the bulls as having a "furious energy." As the crowd rounded the corner where Best was waiting, Best got his first taste of what Hemingway meant.
"You have this mass of people running as hard as they can go. Their eyes are like saucers," he said. "And all you see are arms, because slower people are being overtaken by faster people, and people are pulling at each other trying to get ahead."
Behind that chaos, Best had no idea where the bulls were. But he could still hear the cowbells, louder than ever and getting closer.
It was about that time that Best decided it was in his best interest to start running.
The crowd surged forward, moving around another curve and nearly bowling over a group of new runners who had not been able to see them coming.
"It's just like running into a wall of people," he said, clapping his hands together for emphasis. "And then it's really on because it's just every man for himself."
Best could still hear the bells. By now they were practically on top of him.
Best decided that was a good reason to get out of the way. Moving to the left side of the course, away from where the crowd's momentum would carry it, he spotted an opening in the fence along the road and made a dash for it.
When he knew he was clear, Best gave himself the luxury of looking over his shoulder, just in time to see a 2,000-pound brown bull barrel past just a few feet behind his back.
"He looked like he was as long as a freight train," Best said.
The adrenaline rush was unlike anything Best had ever experienced. He said that, in the moment, he understood why some people seek a life of thrills.
"My wife has tried for years to convince me to go skydiving, but I just can't see jumping out of a perfectly good airplane," he said. "But I told her that day after the bull run, if there had been a plane here and a parachute, I was so jacked up after that I'd have gotten on the plane and skydived."
For Best, the decision to run with the bulls was about living life to the fullest while he still had the chance.
"There was something Hemingway always used to say about how you don't own it, talking about time," he said. "Nothing is ever permanent, even the people you know, the things you experience. You don't own it, so enjoy it while you can."
Once the rush had passed, Best was just relieved to be OK. However, this run might not be the end of the story.
"I might do it again," he said with a wry smile. "I think I'd go back."